


Together! [In Agony]

by Vincent_Valentine



Series: Vent [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cutting, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual self harm, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vincent_Valentine/pseuds/Vincent_Valentine
Summary: I visited him in his family home, He knew why I was there.We had made an agreement.So I found myself on his doorstep...





	Together! [In Agony]

**Author's Note:**

> you know what this is. a short story starring my ocs...

I knocked on his front door, barely able to stand still as I waited. After a minute or two, a portly woman opened the door and looked down at me from the upper step.

 

I felt meek, but cleared my throat and spoke, “Hello, I’m here to see-”

 

“He’s upstairs.” was all she said as she walked back into the house leaving the door open for me. I entered and made my way upstairs. It was easy to find his room, as I could hear, clear as day, ‘I know it's over’ playing behind the door.

 

“Your mother isn’t very friendly,” He turned around and smiled at me.

 

“She isn’t my real mother anyway.” he didn’t elaborate.

 

He wandered around his room lighting some candles placed on his desk and on the window sill, lighting the previously dim room up slightly. I sat down on the floor and tried to relax.

 

His hair was damp, presumably from the shower he'd had earlier. I tried not to think about what he'd be like less clothed and slick with water. Instead, I thought of the way his leather pants made the curve of his ass utterly delectable. Yeah, this wasn't helping, especially because he was now done with the candles and was now sitting before me, fixing his eyeliner in a compact mirror.

 

"You ready?" It wasn’t really a question but I answered anyway.

 

I looked him deep in the eyes, "...as I'll ever be" I knew that he could feel my nerves lingering.

  
  


He snapped the mirror closed, cleared his throat and straightened his face.

 

"Hold your arm out" his instruction was clear and concise, and I obeyed, sticking my arm out ready for his actions.

 

But they never came.

 

I didn’t even notice that I had closed my eyes (Not to mention how tightly clamped shut they were). When no action came, I opened them again to find him holding his trusty lock knife out.

 

"You want me to-" I began.

 

He smirked, the bastard, "You're a big boy, you wanted this right," If I wasn't so sure it'd turn him on, I would've punched him in his dumb, sexy face.

 

"Fine." I sulked, taking the knife and holding it in my shaky hand. Breathing didn't come easy in that moment. I pressed the blade against my arm and looked at him pleadingly. He leaned in and gripped the wrist of the hand clutching the blade. Piercing blue eyes clear as they locked on my course.

 

He looked deathly serious then.

 

“Are you really sure you want to do this?” he began, “I’m not forcing you to do this.”

 

I sighed and shrugged, “Please, I want to do this, I feel I have to. I just can’t get the idea out of my head. You know that.”

 

I felt the grip on my wrist tighten.

 

“Alright,” The stinging took over as he pushed my wrist down and pulled it along harder than he really needed too, cutting across my arm. It was deep, I didn’t have to even look at it to tell. After a few seconds, I felt the blood begin to bead and drip down my arm, onto my lap.

 

Losing grip on the knife, it fell to the floor. I cringed, thinking of his parents in the family room downstairs.I wonder what they would think if they saw this display before them; their son inches away from me, helping a miserable teen cut himself so he could try and feel again.

 

Looking up at him through hazy eyes, I saw his expression twist thrice-fold; from a neutral expression, to worry to finally most alarming if all:

 

Lust.

 

I slung my non-bloody arm around his neck and pulled him deathly close, closing the remaining Gap between us. His lips were soft, so it felt wrong how violent I kissed him. My arm, still bloodsoaked and dripping, was pressed firmly against the two of us. The kiss deepened further, and I being inexperienced fumbled along to his mind-numbing experience.

 

He picked up the knife and leaned back, letting me lead for some reason (maybe he actually thought I knew what I was doing). I decided to kiss his neck as he began to lay the knife upon his own arm, without a care in the world he flicked the knife against the fully marred flesh of his forearm. The cuts weren't as deep as the one on my arm, but there were so many, heavily lain on the upper portion of his arm. He looked at me.

 

“Is this really a good idea?” He asked.

 

I pulled away from his collar bone where I was previously kissing, “Probably not, in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t think either of us have a knack for good ideas.”

 

He sighed and tried his hand at a sexy, smouldering look (Note: he was very good at it) before gesturing to my forearm.

 

"Go ahead" I gave him my arm again.

 

The sting was lesser this time, and he was going easier compared to his own wells. I wasn't expecting the reaction it gave me, but perhaps it was only natural.

 

"F-fuck" I sighed as he put the blade down carefully, as to not alert the people sitting downstairs. He traced his fingertips up from my knee to my loins.

 

"You're hard? From this..." He smirked again.

 

I breathed heavily, "I'm more fucked up than you think."

 

"Well," he climbed into my lap to straddle me, "That’s pretty cliche, but we'll see about that."

 

With those words, he pushed his hips into mine, causing me to stifle a groan from the sensation. Humping his clothed cock against mine, it was driving me mad. I dug my fingers into the short shag carpet, softly begging for more.

 

"Oh? So that's what you want huh?" He pressed harder.

 

"Please~! I'll do any- unh -thing you want" I begged.

 

He stopped his movement, "Anything? Really..."

 

I nodded furiously.

 

He pulled off me completely, scoffing as I whined at the loss of pressure. He looked over me from his vantage point he took kneeling by my foot. 

 

He reached over to pull me up. He'd stopped bleeding, but there was still small beads of blood gathering around the lines on my arm. I sat up and faced him. He reached forward to unzip my jeans as he also unbuttoned his leather pants impressively at the same time. He smirked, presumably at my lack of underwear, and wrapped long pianists fingers around the base of my cock.

 

"I'll do yours if you do mine," it seems very childish for a twenty-something, but I nodded and reached forth to begin jerking him off. He kept a steady pace. He really knew what he was doing, I could tell. I kept my grip firm, doing just what I knew how to and what normally felt good for me. He began to stroke me more erratically, and I tried to keep up. I felt the pressure build up, and before I knew it I found myself slumped over his shoulder, shuddering my release. I slowed down, hand slipping from its place. I was sated, but he was not done.

 

"Hey! We had an agreement!" He whisper shouted.

 

"Guess you want me to do something about that huh," I felt myself come back to my cocky self. I knew I had to keep going.

 

I lowered my head, in a fit of stupidity. I wrapped my lips around his cock and descended upon it, bobbing up and down on it. This took him off guard, as he moaned deeply and loudly.

 

"You don't ha- ah -have to do it like that if ya don't wanna," I wasn't good at it, I could barely get lower than halfway down it, but even so, he bucked up into my mouth in no time, gripping the dark locks of my hair between his fingers, coming with a shout and a heavy deal of seed ending up in my mouth and running down my chin. I begrudgingly swallowed (Is it an insult to not swallow? I’d have to get up to spit this shit out anyway...) and looked up at him.

 

He flopped back onto the floor, reaching for a cloth for both the cum on my face and the dried blood on my arm.

 

"This better be a regular thing you fucker." I smiled at him as he handed me the cloth.

 

"Oh you bet," a trademark smirk and a kiss blown my way was how this encounter ended.

  
  



End file.
